


Countdown to a New Love

by LadyShadowphyre



Series: tumblr prompt basket [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Asexual Sam Winchester, Balthazar (mentioned), Bartholomew (mentioned) - Freeform, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Siblings, Demisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Female Lucifer, Gabriel (Supernatural) is a Softie, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Michael (Supernatural) Not Being an Asshole, Past Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Past Lucifer/Gabriel, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester is the Master of Fake Dating, Zachariah (Supernatural) Being an Asshole, past Becky Rosen/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/pseuds/LadyShadowphyre
Summary: Castiel Svarte was not looking forward to having to attend the mandatory New Year's party at his family's publishing firm until his best friend Dean Winchester threw him a bone in the form of a date with his younger brother Sam who apparently didn't mind pretending to be Castiel's out of state boyfriend. Now Castiel just has to survive the night of nosy family and coworkers, his growing attraction to the otherwise completely out of his league law student, and oh, yes, the countdown at midnight. What could go wrong?





	Countdown to a New Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the tumblr kiss prompt #16: New Year's Kiss!
> 
> Then this prompt got infected with the prompt of "fake dating for the holidays", my hand slipped, and this happened. Um. Oops? ^^U

**C** ASTIEL SVARTE HATED office parties during winter. Not that he was much for parties any other time of the year, not since he’d graduated college and been forced into the same corporate mould as the rest of his family where he had to pretend he hadn’t even heard of cannabis, but he particularly hated winter office parties. They all seemed to inevitably be for Christmas or Valentine’s Day, either one carrying a certain necessity of social obligation that Castiel found awkward at best and downright uncomfortable at worst.

“You could always just not go,” his entirely unsympathetic best friend told him around a mouthful of fries. Swallowing them and picking up another, Dean Winchester waved his free hand carelessly as he added, “I mean, realistically, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I realize your job allows you more freedoms regarding your choices of social pursuits, Dean,” Castiel said testily as he stabbed his fork irritably into his salad while trying not to eye his companion’s burger with too much envy, “but please believe me that if I could get out of going to this New Year’s party without being fired or, worse, subjected to even more heavy-handed matchmaking efforts by my family, I would not be wasting our lunch break griping about it.”

“So you have to go to this party, and it would probably help for you to bring a date to fend off well-meaning coworkers-slash-family members who want to set you up with someone?” Dean clarified. He hummed thoughtfully, then wiped his greasy hand on his coveralls and pulled out his phone, hitting #2 on the speed dial and lifting it to his ear.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Castiel asked warily. Dean just gave him a reassuring smile that did nothing to reassure Castiel in the slightest and waved him quiet as whoever he was calling picked up the phone.

“Hey, Sammy, you free for New Year’s?” he asked as Castiel almost choked on a mouthful of wilted lettuce. “You remember Cas, my best friend from college, right? Well, he’s kinda trapped into attending this party for his office where his coworkers are also his nosy, matchmaking family, and--”

“Dean!” Castiel squawked, making to grab the phone away from his former friend and apologize profusely to whoever this ‘Sammy’ was.

“--and he could really use an understanding companion who wouldn’t mind acting like they’d been dating for at least a couple months,” Dean went on blithely as he leaned back out of range of Castiel’s grabbing hand. “I don’t know, October? So you can say you had prior obligations over Christmas, which you _did._ Whatever, you can work out the details yourselves. Hang on.” Dean angled the phone slightly away from his mouth. “What time do you have to be at this party of yours?”

“Eleven,” Castiel capitulated. “The party technically starts at ten, but most of the office will inevitably put off their arrival until eleven.”

“Cas says the party starts at ten, but most people won’t show ‘til eleven,” Dean told ‘Sammy’, then listened for a moment. “If you think it’s important. I dunno, burgers? He ordered a salad today, God only knows why. Man cannot survive on rabbit food alone, Sammy!”

“Excuse you, this is a grilled chicken Caesar salad,” Castiel sniped. Dean answered with an expressive eyeroll and ignored him.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Okay, I’ll tell him. Yeah, yeah, put it on my tab, bitch. Bye.”

“Do I even want to know what you’ve just done?” Castiel asked in resignation once he was sure Dean had hung up.

“I just got your hopeless ass a date to your vitally important New Year’s party,” Dean said as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “You’re welcome. Also, Sammy said you should probably have some time beforehand to work out the details of your story, so he’s taking you to dinner first. Be ready for him to pick you up at seven-thirty.”

“Thanks, I think,” Castiel muttered. He paused, blinked, then looked up at Dean in surprise. “Wait, ‘he’?”

“How’d you think I got you a date this last minute?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. “You’re just lucky I already knew Sammy didn’t have plans involving anything more exciting than his Netflix account. You’ve got a New Year’s date with my little brother.”

* * *

 

 **I** F MURDER WASN'T a felony criminal offense, Castiel might have resorted to it five minutes after informing his cousin, Zachariah Anielski, that he would, in fact, be bringing a date to the New Year's party. Zachariah's disdainful disbelief was irritating, but not unexpected, and Castiel could have ignored his cousin's snide remarks if their other cousin, Naomi Anielski-Milton, hadn't overheard and insisted on grilling Castiel about who he was bringing, why, how long had they been together, where was his date over Christmas if they'd been together that long, "and don't you dare walk away while I'm talking Castishka!"

Castiel answered as calmly and politely as he could that he was bringing Sam Winchester, because they were dating, that they had been dating since the middle of September, that Sam had been with his own family over Christmas since Castiel had hoped to spare his boyfriend the rigor of being exposed to the extended Svarte-Anielski clan, and that he really needed to get back to work as he and Sam were going to dinner tonight before the party. Naomi likely would have kept him there until he had answered all of her questions to her exacting specifications if his uncle, Michael Anielski, hadn't called her into his office to go over something or other that was probably Vitally Important and Castiel had made his escape.

Unfortunately for him, news travelled fast in most office buildings, and the offices run by his family were no different. Moreover, his team leader, Anna, was Naomi's daughter and only a year or two older than Castiel himself, so she tended to treat him like a little brother more than a subordinate employee. Naturally, this meant she felt it was perfectly within her rights to park herself on the corner of his desk and interrogate him about his date.

"Anna," he pleaded with her finally, "you know as well as I do how... _intense_ our family can be. Surely you can't blame me for wanting a little more time to keep my new relationship to myself before all of you try and scare him off?"

"If this Sam Winchester fellow is the type to get scared off by us playing nice, he'll never survive us when the gloves come off," Anna declared, only partially flippantly. "What's he do, anyway?"

"He's a student at Stanford Law," Castiel said, having at least managed to remember that much from Dean's prideful rantings about his "genius baby brother". "So you see, new plus largely long distance."

"And you met him through _Dean_ ?" Anna asked. Castiel frowned at her incredulity, and Anna hastily lifted her hands in surrender. "Easy, there, Cassie, I'm one of the ones who _doesn't_ heartily disapprove of you being friends with the blunt-mannered greasemonkey, remember? Actually," she added thoughtfully, "most of us kind of thought you and he were going to end up an item, which is a big part of why they disapprove."

"Dean is terminally straight, I'm afraid," Castiel said in a near-deadpan. "But I'm sure I can part with his number if you want to get to know him a little better yourself sometime."

"Don't tempt me!" Anna groaned as she finally got off of Castiel's desk and turned to head back to her own. "If I have to endure one more society set-up with some simple-minded yes-man whose only so-called redeeming feature is that Grandfather approves of the family, I'm going to switch to dating women exclusively!"

Castiel sighed in relief at her departure and got back to work. The last thing he wanted was to have to stay late today finishing up, even if he did not have a dinner date to get ready for! At least his nerves had finally calmed.

* * *

 

 **H** IS NERVES WERE back in full force by the time he had reached his apartment. Taking a shower helped a little, the fall of the hot water on his neck and back muscles soothing the worst of the accumulated tension, but it was a temporary reprieve as the nerves crept back in while he was staring blankly into his closet trying to choose something to wear. He very much did not want to put on yet another suit after he had just escaped from the one he'd worn to work, but he also didn't want to make a bad impression on Dean's brother. He couldn't actually remember off-hand if he had ever met the younger Winchester before, and didn't actually register that Sam had probably heard plenty of stories about him from Dean already. The sudden realization that Sam had probably heard the story of him and the bees made him have to sit down on the bed for several minutes and just breathe through the burgeoning panic.

The panic nearly overtook him again when the doorbell rang at seven, half an hour before Dean had said to expect Sam. He tripped over his discarded towel in his haste to get to the door and ended up slamming his shoulder into it, opening the door gingerly with mixed curses and apologies. All thought helpfully flew out of his head when he got the door open enough to actually see the man on the other side of it, and he very nearly swallowed his tongue.

Sam was tall. Castiel had halfway expected that, given Dean's height, but Sam was easily three or four inches taller than his older brother and a full hand taller than Castiel. His hair was longer, too, chesnut curls framing his high cheekbones and strong jawline. Castiel thought his eyes might have been green like Dean's, but then Sam glanced down at Castiel and he could have sworn they changed color to look more gold than green. That was also about the same time he realized that he was standing in the middle of the doorway rubbing his bruised shoulder in nothing but his boxers.

"I... I'm sorry--" he stammered, feeling as if his face might combust. Sam looked up again and smiled softly, and Castiel almost forgot to breathe.

"Let me guess," Sam broke in gently. "Dean told you to expect me at eight?"

"Seven-thirty," Castiel mumbled, ducking his head. "I'm sorry, I'll just--"

"Breathe, Castiel," Sam said. Castiel did as directed, trying not to think too closely about the way his chest tightened at Sam's pronunciation of his name, and the younger man continued, "He was supposed to tell you that I'd come by at seven to help you get ready and sort out our story before I take you to dinner. I'm guessing he didn't mention anything like that?"

"He said something about dinner," Castiel started, then winced and stepped back. "I'm sorry, please come in, I was just about to get dressed."

"I'm glad I caught you, then," Sam said as he stepped inside the apartment. Castiel paused, looking up at Sam uncertainly, and the taller man blushed slightly. "Not that I had any ulterior motives, just... here," he said, holding out a slightly lumpy and floppy rectangular parcel in snowflake patterned wrapping paper. "You'll want to open this before you get dressed, trust me."

"Thank you?" Castiel hesitantly took the package and began peeling away the wrapping paper while Sam carefully closed the apartment door. He froze momentarily when the paper parted enough for his fingers to brush against something soft and silky and very slightly fuzzy, and then he was ripping the rest of the paper away and gaping at the beautiful dark green sweater with tightly braided cables around the v-neck, hem, and cuffs. "Wha... how did...?"

"Dean told me how much you loved the sweater I made for him last year," Sam said, the smile audible in his voice.

"You made this?" Castiel asked, awestruck, as he carefully traced the slender cables. Dean had told him the dark blue alpaca sweater he'd received for Christmas last year had been handmade, but that Sam had made it, and that he'd willingly spent the time to make one for Castiel, obviously having started work on it months ago before this even came up....

"I was going to let him give it to you as a belated Christmas gift, hence the wrapping paper," Sam explained, ducking his head a little when Castiel looked up at him. "However, I figured it might work better for you to have it now as a gift from your... boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend," Castiel repeated, then nodded quickly. This part was easy. "Long-distance because you're still at Stanford and it's a difficult commute, but... we make it work with phone calls and Skype?"

"Sounds good to me," Sam agreed. His eyes slid down over Castiel again and he cleared his throat. "Not that I'm objecting to the view or anything, but Ellen's expecting us to show up around eight for dinner."

"Oh! Right," Castiel mumbled, flushing and turning to hurry into the bedroom to try and ransack his closet for what to wear with his new sweater. "Who's Ellen?"

"Ellen Harvelle," Sam called after him. "She owns the Roadhouse Bar and Grill over on Pike Street. Not the fanciest place to take a date, but they have the best burgers in the state and if Dean's to be believed their pecan pie is better than Heaven."

"That doesn't sound like something Dean would say," Castiel remarked as he tugged on a pair of black trousers. As best he had figured, his best friend was an atheist.

"Well, he originally said 'better than sex' before I reminded him that not everyone considers sex synonymous with ultimate pleasure," Sam answered dryly.

"That sounds more like Dean," Castiel agreed with a chuckle. He knew how long it had taken his friend to grasp the concept of Castiel not being interested in having sex with anyone without a serious emotional connection, at least when he was sober. "So you're...?"

"Sex-positive asexual," Sam said, picking up on the implied question. "I don't know how likely it is that your family or coworkers will try to quiz you on your sex life--"

"If they do, you can tell them it's none of their business," Castiel said firmly, slightly muted by the closet as he hunted for a button-down shirt that wasn't white or blue. "Anna's the only one who might honestly want details, mostly in an 'are we or aren't we' way to see how serious we are, but she'll back off if you tell her to."

"Good enough," Sam said. "Any questions you have for me, things they'd expect you to know about me or vice versa?"

"I... this may be none of my business, but why would you agree to this?" Castiel asked, pausing in the buttoning of his shirt to glance out of the bedroom door towards Sam, who appeared content to wait with an easy and relaxed stance. "Why agree to fake-date someone at all, never mind someone you barely know?"

"It's actually not the first time I've been someone's fake boyfriend, though this is a little short notice," Sam admitted, reaching up to rub the back of his neck and looking almost adorably sheepish. Castiel ducked back into the bedroom to find his socks before he said something stupid. Behind him, Sam continued, "Besides, you aren't just 'someone'. You're Castiel Svarte, Dean's best friend. The guy he has a thousand stories about and who helped him ace his history class, and still has lunch with him twice a week even though you both graduated and went off to your completely separate career paths which you've never once derided him for. So yeah, I'm willing to go an extra mile or two for you that I wasn't going to offer my last fake relationship."

"For Dean," Castiel guessed, hearing echoes of Dean's own devotion to his brother in Sam's words.

"For _you,_ " Sam corrected. With a touch more amusement, he added, "The chance to have Dean owe me is a bonus."

"I see," Castiel said. He didn't, not really, but he supposed that greater familiarity with Sam Winchester might eventually shed further light on the mystery. It was only a little surprising to him that he wanted to cultivate that familiarity. To cover, he shifted the subject back to the main thrust of Sam's initial question. "As far as my coworkers are aware, I met you through Dean - which is technically true - and we have been dating, inasmuch as a couple separated by distance can date, since the middle of September."

"That would mean we met earlier, probably in July or August, and kept in contact after I went back to Palo Alto," Sam said, sounding almost meditative. "The switch to dating while separated would most likely have happened when we were setting up our next Skype chat and one of us said something like 'it's a date' and it spiraled from there."

"And spent time together whenever you flew in to visit Dean?" Castiel suggested cautiously, pulling the sweater over his head and sliding his arms into the sleeves. He'd always made himself scarce whenever Dean had mentioned his brother was coming to visit, not wanting to intrude on the rare occasions that it happened given how much Dean clearly missed Sam when he was away.

"Visit both of you," Sam said firmly. A little more gently, he added, "You could have done that anyway, you know. I certainly wouldn't have minded actually meeting you before now."

"Dean misses seeing you more than he lets on," Castiel said, making a grab for his tie and slipping it around his neck under the collar of his shirt. "I didn't want to interrupt your bonding time, and it gave me a chance to catch up on my own Netflix binging."

"Well, if Netflix ever loses its charm, consider yourself invited to hang out with us when I'm in town from now on," Sam told him, turning to look as Castiel emerged from the bedroom still trying to twist his tie into a presentable knot. For a moment, he stood still, just looking, and then he stepped forward into Castiel's space and gently reached up to brush Castiel's hands away from his neck. "Here."

Castiel swallowed and stood stock still as Sam folded the length of his tie around itself into what felt like a much more complicated knot than he was capable of tying on his own, his eyes flicking over the crisp lines of Sam's charcoal grey suit, black shirt, and a red tie that looked like it had subtle pinstripes. Actually.... Castiel peered more closely at the tie as best he could without moving his head, and blinked as he realized the pinstripes were in fact diagonal lines of a familiar stylized S inside a diamond shape. "Superman?"

"Heh, yeah," Sam confirmed with a soft chuckle. "Growing up, I was convinced that Dean was Batman because my big brother could do anything. He loved the idea, and even dressed up as Batman for Halloween when he was eight. Got me all dressed up like Superman to go trick-or-treating with him and told me we'd be superheroes and could do anything." He huffed softly as he finished with the knot and carefully tucked the tie inside of the neck of the sweater. "Of course, I was four and took him literally, so I tried to fly by climbing up on top of the neighbor's fence and jumping. Ended up in the hospital with a broken arm." He glanced up with a rueful little smile. "That was also the year I was old enough to actually notice him stealing my Halloween candy."

"That sounds like a less than pleasant memory," Castiel pointed out, uncertain what such a story had to do with why Sam was wearing the Superman-themed tie now.

"It's not that pleasant, no," Sam agreed. "But Dean's a jerk who won't let me forget that I was dumb enough at four to believe that because I was dressed as Superman then I could actually fly, so he keeps giving me Superman themed gifts for Christmas." He studied Castiel for a moment, then reached up and ran his fingers through Castiel's hair, oblivious to the way the action made Castiel's breath hitch in his chest. "You look great. Ready to go?"

"Just... just need my shoes," Castiel stammered, stepping away to shove his feet into the black Oxford loafers by the door and grab his coat off the hook. With the distinct feeling that he was somehow in over his head, Castiel swallowed down the fluttering nerves and turned back to Sam with more confidence than he actually felt. "Ready when you are."

"Let's go," Sam said with a bright smile that left Castiel feeling rather dazed, and ushered him out of the apartment.

* * *

 

 **D** INNER WENT MUCH more smoothly than Castiel feared. The Roadhouse was nominally a bar as its decor and clientele indicated, but true to Sam's promise the burger Castiel ordered was fantastic. Castiel's nerves managed to relax themselves the more Sam treated their dinner out as a dinner between close friends, putting no external pressure on Castiel to act like a "couple" and Castiel could have kissed him for it if that wouldn't have just made things more awkward again. Conversation flowed between them easily, with Sam telling Castiel more stories of him and Dean growing up, and Castiel chiming in with some stories of the antics he and Dean had gotten up to, most of them not actually including the excuse of "we were high at the time" although a fair few of them did. By the time the bubbly blonde waitress collected Sam's card to settle their bill, Castiel felt much more at ease with the idea of pretending to have been dating this man for months, and sternly ignored the voice that whispered how it might be nice to date Sam for real. It wouldn't go away, though, leaving him somewhat distracted when the waitress returned and Sam was suddenly helping him into his coat again.

"Here, give me your phone a moment," Sam said, pulling Castiel out of his thoughts as they stepped out of the restaurant. Castiel retrieved his phone and wordlessly passed it over, then watched with curiosity as Sam flicked into his contacts and began pressing buttons rapidly without breaking stride towards Sam's rental car. "I'm adding my contact information into your phone. I'd need my laptop to fake a call and text history if your family is particularly nosy, but at least the lack can be explained by saying I just got a new phone over Christmas."

"That seems reasonable," Castiel said, accepting the phone back and trying not to let himself dwell too much on the casual tacit admission that Sam knew how to fake a phone history, choosing instead to look over his new contact. "'B.W.T.D.B.'?"

"'Boy With The Dumbass Brother'," Sam deadpanned, making Castiel snort with laughter. "You can change it if you think of something better."

"Not until after my next lunch with Dean," Castiel promised, slipping his phone back into his trouser pocket as sliding into the passenger seat while Sam walked around to the driver's side. He blinked when a second phone was presented to him moments after both doors had slammed shut and shot Sam a confused look.

"For you to put your contact info in, if you want," Sam explained as he started the car. Castiel nodded absently, still staring down at the phone in his hand. It was a standard smartphone, not too different from Castiel's own, if a little newer, but what held his attention was the background photograph. It was a candid shot, one that Castiel remembered being taken by Benny, Dean's coworker and friend from the autoshop, and had caught both Dean and Castiel mid-laugh. He also knew that they had originally been alone together in that photograph, but on the phone he could see Sam seated on the ragged couch and looking up at Castiel with a fond smile, seemingly content to enjoy the happiness despite not being a part of the joke.

"You're very thorough," he managed around the tightening in his chest, feeling a stab of guilt that no such moments of shared camaraderie actually existed between the three of them the way this photo suggested.

"Hm? Oh," Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "I wasn't sure how hard we'd need to sell it at this party with your family, so I made sure to set up as much as I could in five hours. Little things like pictures together get noticed by people looking for evidence that their child is really involved with someone."

"Voice of experience?" Castiel couldn't help but ask, then bit his lip at the shadow that crossed Sam's face. "I'm sorry, that's not my business."

"It's fine, Cas," Sam said, shaking his head. "And you deserve to know since we're supposed to be dating. I don't know how much Dean's told you about me or my relationship history...?"

"Not much," Castiel admitted. "He always tended to focus on your intelligence and academic accomplishments whenever he was feeling particularly boastful about you, which was often and completely deserved."

"I... good to know, I guess," Sam mumbled a little, and Castiel caught the faint flush on Sam's cheeks. "Anyway, the main reason he wouldn't talk about my relationship status is because I've never actually had a real romantic relationship, not that I could honestly count, but everyone around us had to believe they were real." Sam shot Castiel a rueful smile as he twisted around to back the car out of the parking space. "My best friend in high school needed a cover so her parents wouldn't find out she was a lesbian. We faked a relationship all the way to Stanford and the only person who knew it wasn't real was her girlfriend Ruby until Jess turned twenty-one and we 'broke up'."

"No one? Not even Dean?" Castiel asked, startled.

"We couldn't risk anything getting back to Jess's parents until she was of age and had full control of her trust fund and they couldn't touch her anymore," Sam explained. "Even after we broke up, I didn't exactly tell Dean that it hadn't been a real relationship until that time he drove out to Palo Alto over Spring Break to surprise me and I had to introduce him to my wife Becky."

"Your _wife_?" Castiel gasped.

" _Ex_ -wife now," Sam said, shooting him an apologetic look. "Becky was dating an older man who left her in the middle of term her Junior year and took pretty much all her savings when he did. She and her parents weren't on speaking terms since they pretty much cut ties with her the moment she turned eighteen, so rather than grovel to them she decided a no-strings marriage to a friend would be the best way to get her financial aid to finish college."

"How would that even work?" Castiel asked, baffled. He could wrap his head around the concept of fake relationship easily enough, but a fake marriage?

"Easier than you might think," Sam said, scanning traffic. He pulled out into the street behind a white BMW and smiled wryly. "In public we were casually affectionate, holding hands and chaste kisses now and again. At home in our apartment we had separate bedrooms and split the cooking and most nights we'd binge-watch whatever sci-fi series caught our interest when we weren't busy with our coursework. After she graduated with her journalism degree and got a good job with the local newspaper, we split up and I added our divorce paperwork to my law school portfolio."

"You needed paperwork?" Castiel said uncertainly.

"She took my name when we got married, and I let her keep it when we split," Sam said. "Plus giving her sixty percent of our combined assets and our mother's engagement ring. It took Dean a while to warm up to her, but she's basically like a little sister to both of us now and the paperwork reflected that. We just needed the documentation to prove that we weren't committing fraud against the university - which we technically were - and ensure neither of us could get our reputations destroyed by the mud-rakers, you know?"

"That makes sense," Castiel nodded. He doubted that he could have gone so far for any friend who wasn't Dean, but Dean was his own brand of special brother-in-all-but-blood and so didn't count. But... "No other relationships...?"

"Not really," Sam shook his head. "After Becky and I split, I waited about three months before starting to look, but even in California it's not easy to find open-minded people who are okay with my having been married and understand the whole asexual thing, so most of the dates I got never really went past one or two before it became obvious that it wasn't going to work out." He huffed, not quite scowling out the windshield. "I mean, I would be fine with sex if my partner wanted so long as we had a more exclusively committed relationship, but apparently that was unreasonable to ask for."

"It seems perfectly reasonable to me," Castiel told him honestly. Frankly, it was pretty much a requirement for him, given his own preferences. From the grateful look Sam shot him, Castiel got the feeling that his acceptance was a very rare response for the younger man. Somewhat at a loss for what else to say, Castiel turned back to the phone, wincing as he noticed that the screen had gone dark. "Ah..."

"Here," Sam held out his hand for the phone and Castiel gratefully handed it over. He deliberately didn't watch as Sam unlocked the device again and quickly found the contacts when it was handed back to him.

He also took his time over adding his contact information, including his cell number and the land line for his apartment, plus his personal and work email addresses, and even added his apartment address. When he couldn't stall any longer, he steeled his nerve and quickly typed in a single word for the contact name, then waited nervously for the next red light before holding the phone out for Sam to see.

"'Angel'?" Sam asked, glancing from the phone to Castiel's face, which Castiel could feel heating.

"Dean joked about me being his guardian angel saving him from Hell for helping him pass History," he explained awkwardly. "Because of my name. I thought perhaps that might be something that could turn into a pet name from his brother. Whom I'm dating."

"It does sound like something I'd come up with," Sam agreed with a chuckle. He shook his head when Castiel made to hand the phone back to him. "There's one other thing I need you to do while you've got my phone, angel."

"What's that?" Castiel asked, trying not to let on how his stomach flipped at hearing the chosen pet name actually in use.

"Pull up the map program and plug in the address for your office?" Sam asked with a sheepish grin. "I think we might be lost."

* * *

 

 **T** HE PARTY WAS already underway by the time Sam and Castiel arrived, as Castiel had expected. What he had not expected was the number of people already present. Castiel almost expected to be set upon by his family the moment they walked in, but other than a couple of polite greetings and welcomes from the people nearest them they were otherwise ignored as unremarkable. It made Castiel deeply suspicious, which caused him to stick slightly closer within Sam's personal space than he might have otherwise out of desire to protect the man he was rapidly considering a friend from whatever was about to befall them. When the shoe finally dropped, it was somehow both better and worse than Castiel had feared.

"Hey, kiddo!" came a heralding salutation. An older man a few inches shorter than Castiel sauntered up to the pair of them with a grin, looking Sam over with sharp golden eyes. "Glad you finally decided to show up! Who's the giant you brought with you?"

"Gabriel, this is Sam Winchester, my boyfriend," Castiel said dutifully, suppressing a sigh. "Sam, this is Gabriel Svarte, who is in fact my father despite his refusal to admit that he's old enough to be any such thing."

"Ouch, Cassie, what happened to respecting your elders?" Gabriel said with an affected pout.

"That would require you to admit you were actually older than me," Castiel retorted with a roll of his eyes. He narrowed them shortly thereafter as he added, "And I thought you and my stepmother were still in Brazil."

"We were," Gabriel admitted freely. "But when Michael called me--"

" _Uncle Michael_ called you?" Castiel gaped.

"--to say that you were actually bringing a _date_ ," Gabriel blithely continued, giving Sam another frank look up and down, which Sam met with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I hopped the next plane back ASAP! Kali would have come, too, but you know how much she hates Michael."

"She hates the way he compares her to Mother," Castiel said quietly. Gabriel pressed his lips together, but didn't argue the point. Lucille Anielski-Svarte's death was an old wound, but still a sore spot with many of the family, though no one could fault Gabriel for wanting to move on. Castiel certainly never had, nor had his brothers and sister, but Kali was Lucille's polar opposite in many ways and Michael had taken that rather badly. Castiel started slightly to feel Sam's arm sliding around him, but found himself leaning into the embrace, drawing the strength he needed to add, "At least pass on my best wishes to her, since she isn't here to receive them in person?"

"Of course, kiddo," Gabriel agreed, his sharp eyes studying Castiel and Sam thoughtfully with a seriousness that he rarely ever chose to display. Whatever he saw must have pleased him, because between one blink and the next he was all bright smiles and twinkling eyes. "Well, Samsquatch, welcome to the madhouse! Call me Gabriel or Gabe or whatever variation you like, just don't call me Mister Svarte, sir, Dad, or late for dinner!"

"Might take a bit to work up to nicknames, Gabriel, but I'm glad to meet you either way," Sam said, ducking his head slightly as he smiled. He didn't let go of Castiel, though, and Castiel made no move to make him. Gabriel's smile softened just a bit the way it did when Castiel knew his father was thinking of Castiel's mother, but it was gone just as quickly as Gabriel tossed back the contents of his cup and saluted them both with the empty plastic vessel.

"Well, I'll catch up with you more before I have to skedaddle, kiddo, but I think I just saw your brother come in and I should go embarrass him a bit before he starts thinking he's not my favorite," Gabriel announced with a manic gleam and sauntered off towards the door. Castiel followed his progress long enough to confirm that Balthazar had actually arrived, which he had, and then nudged Sam gently towards the refreshment table.

"Should I even ask what that was about?" Sam asked, just low enough that only Castiel was likely to hear him. "The, uh, thing about favorites, I mean."

"It's not how it probably sounded," Castiel assured him. He eyed the punch consideringly, then reached for the small bottles of water that had likely been set out to supplement whatever alcohol was in the punch. He picked up two, passing one to Sam, who accepted with a murmured thanks, and tugged him over to the large windows where they could pretend to admire the view. "Of the four of us - me, Balthazar, Hester and Inias - Balt is the most like Gabriel in personality and appearance, though he inherited our mother's height along with the rest of us. When his personality first manifested, Uncle Raphael supposedly said, 'Oh mother of God, there's two of them!' Balt started crying which made the twins cry and me try to kick Uncle Raphael in the shins, so Gabriel declared him to be the family favorite and our Mother refused to speak to Uncle Raphael for nearly a year."

"And what a peaceful year it was," Zachariah drawled from behind them. "Really, Castiel, you go to the trouble to bring a date and then hide out over here away from everyone? One might think you were ashamed of something."

"Yes, I can't imagine why I might want to spare Sam the annoyance of dealing with my more obnoxious relatives," Castiel grumbled, rolling his eyes. Shooting Sam an apologetic look, he turned to make the introductions. "Sam, this is my cousin Zachariah, Uncle Raphael's eldest."

A flicker of annoyance crossed Zachariah's face at being the one introduced, but he smiled politely enough as he waited for Sam to extend his hand. Given that one of Sam's hands was holding his drink and the other was holding Castiel, it soon became obvious that no offer of a handshake was going to be forthcoming. Somewhat discomfited, Zachariah gamely attempted a foray into conversation with, "I hear you're a student?"

"Stanford Law," Sam answered with the most politely bland smile Castiel had ever seen. As familiar as Sam's more animated and warm smiles had become, the sudden shift was jarring.

"Smarter than that wastrel cousin of yours, then, eh?" Zachariah said with a smarmy smile, apparently not noticing the flinty look that entered Sam's eyes as Castiel looked on in something between anticipation and horror.

"If you're referring to _Dean_ ," Sam said in a deceptively mild tone, "I wouldn't say I'm that much smarter than he is, just blessed with a bit more free time to spend raising my GPA since my _older brother_ spent more of his time raising _me_ instead. Different priorities, I'm sure you understand."

"It frequently behooves the first borns to look after their younger siblings," a smooth voice broke in, causing an already paling Zachariah to turn grey. "For instance, _my_ younger brother would like a word with his son, if he can be spared?"

"...Yes, Uncle Michael," Zachariah said through a gritted smile, shooting a covertly poisonous look at Castiel as he slunk away, allowing Michael to step up beside the window in his place.

"Please forgive my nephew," Michael sighed once Zachariah was out of earshot. "His priorities apparently rank his ambition above his tact. Michael Anielski. I would offer my hand, but I see both of yours are already occupied."

"Sam Winchester," Sam answered with a return of some of the previous warmth. Castiel relaxed fractionally, unconsciously settling against Sam's side as he added, "I apologize if I was overly harsh towards Zachariah."

"I don't doubt that he deserved it," Michael said, casting a dry look in the direction of Zachariah's departure. "He was hired on as a favor to Raphael and seems to believe that using flattery will have me overlook his frequent efforts to sabotage his cousins and net him a promotion he hasn't earned."

"And before you get too worried about his efforts, it's mostly me he tries to sabotage and he's not very good at it," Castiel added, looking up at Sam with a reassuring smile.

"He's only that bad at it because you are that much better at countering his efforts, Castiel," Michael corrected gently. Looking at Sam again, he added, "Castiel inherited my late sister's formidable intelligence as well as her features, and a double helping of stubborness from both Lucille and Gabriel. His talents are wasted where he is if not for the fact that being where he is helps to gather evidence against Zachariah's many misdeeds and lay the foundations of a secure digital publication platform."

"So long as you're okay with it," Sam said to Castiel, still looking a little dubious but sounding credibly like a supportive boyfriend.

"Let's just say I'm greatly looking forward to Zachariah's performance review," Castiel deadpanned. Michael chuckled softly, though Castiel caught the edge of the same fond melancholy that had touched Gabriel's expression.

"Naomi expressed a similar sentiment to me," his uncle said, shaking his head. "I fear Zachariah has not endeared himself much to his family. Raphael will be disappointed." A startled, high-pitched curse from across the room made Castiel jump slightly and Sam's arm tighten around him, but Michael only sighed. "And now I must go and rescue Hannah from having to deal with the fallout of whatever mischief your father and brother have enacted upon Bartholomew. Sam, it was good to meet you and I hope we may speak again later."

"Of course, it was good to meet you as well, sir," Sam agreed.

"Michael, please," Michael returned. "If Castiel is so smitten as to cuddle with you in public, why, you're practically family already."

"Um," Sam swallowed as he and Castiel watched Michael walk away towards he disturbance. "Was that a hint that I should not have my arm around you?"

"No!" Castiel said quickly, reaching up to grab Sam's hand to halt the attempt to withdraw. Cheeks red, he cleared his throat and said in a more normal tone. "No, don't, it's... Michael is aware that I'm asexual, even if he doesn't fully understand what that means. He's noticed I tend to be standoffish about physical contact unless I'm particularly comfortable with someone, and with you being introduced as my boyfriend..."

"Oh," Sam said, his voice low and a little chagrined. "I'm sorry, I didn't think to ask how you felt about physical contact or public displays."

"If you had asked before we left for dinner, my answer would have been very different than it is now," Castiel said lowly. He glanced down at the large, strong hand that he was still holding and carefully laced their fingers together. This close, he could feel the way Sam's breath caught in his chest just before he stepped very slightly closer to Castiel's back. "Another trait I inherited from my mother, as well as my tendency towards sarcasm."

"Sounds like she was a brilliant woman," Sam offered quietly. "If she's as much like you as it sounds, I think I would have liked her a lot."

"Perhaps," Castiel sighed, looking down towards the street below the office building, watching the steady procession of red and white lights against the blacktop. "I know she would have liked you, at least before her last year."

"Can I ask what happened?" Sam asked carefully. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"You've answered my questions," Castiel said with a slight shake of his head. "It was an inoperable brain tumor in the frontal lobe. She was occasionally prone to headaches, but no one thought much of it because who wouldn't be with four children? By the time it grew big enough to start pressing on her cerebral cortex, altering her personality, it was too large to treat."

"As strong a fighter as Great Aunt Lucille was, she couldn't fight against the darkness growing inside her head," Anna spoke up as she slid up to Castiel's side. "She knew something was wrong, but cancer didn't even occur to her until she had a seizure and they did a scan of her brain. When she had to be confined to the hospital, it was practically the end of the world. It very nearly was the end of the world for my Grandfather, and Gabriel... Gabriel was gutted."

"That's awful," Sam whispered, tightening his hold on Castiel. It felt almost as if he was trying to protect Castiel from the horrors of the past, and that made the twisting in Castiel's gut pull tighter.

"It was," Anna agreed. "It's why we're all so protective of Castiel, you see? He's practically her spitting image. We couldn't fight the brain tumor, but--"

"But you can fight anything else that might hurt him," Sam finished, a wealth of understanding hidden in the quiet words. "I get it. Dean's the same way about me, has been ever since he carried me out of our burning house when he was four."

"And I'm betting it goes both ways," Anna said shrewdly, glancing over at the pair of them for the first time since she'd joined them by the window. "Willing to do just about anything for each other?"

"There's not a whole Hell of a lot I wouldn't do for Dean," Sam admitted frankly, and Castiel could just see the reflection of his smile in the window. "Lucky for me he's happy about his baby brother dating his best friend."

"Mmhm," Anna hummed, the fingers of her left hand reaching out to run along the sleeve of Castiel's sweater. "Isn't that... no, Dean's was blue, wasn't it?"

"It was," Castiel said, squeezing Sam's fingers. "Sam gave me this one for Christmas."

"Really now?" Anna turned to look at Sam consideringly, then dropped her eyes to the sleeve and its braided cables. "Hand-knit custom fitted, you told me. Not worried about the sweater curse?" she asked cryptically.

"Work started on it before he was actually my boyfriend so I think I'm in the clear, but I'm willing to take my chances," Sam said just as cryptically. Anna laughed.

"Good to hear," she said, and finally smiled. "Countdown's about to start if you want to rearrange yourselves a little. Welcome to the family, Sam."

Sam must have said something in return because his chest vibrated against Castiel's back, but the roaring in Castiel's ears drowned out any words. The countdown. Rearrange themselves. He knew of the tradition for exchanging kisses at midnight with one's significant other, having watched Michael and his wife Rachel as well as his own parents do so often, but he had never thought of being a participant in the tradition until now.

He could barely breathe. Suddenly he wanted very desperately to be in a real relationship with Sam, to have this kiss at midnight mean something real, something _true_ , instead of just another piece of the puzzle of this... _pageantry_ being played out for his family. He didn't realize he was almost shaking until Sam untangled their fingers and turned him around, looking down into his face with concern.

"Cas? What's wrong?" he asked, sounding so honestly concerned and Castiel felt like laughing hysterically.

"Nothing... everything!" he gasped, shaking his head. "I... I don't think I can do this."

"Do what?" Sam asked, eyes widening with a touch of alarm. "Cas, if this is about what Anna said, I told her to mind her own business. You don't have to kiss me, now or ever."

"But I want to," Castiel choked out, staring up at Sam's face with panic. Somewhere more towards the center of the room, he could distantly hear Gabriel calling out the start of the countdown. "I want to kiss you, but I don't want to do it like this."

"What are you saying, Cas?" Sam asked, eyes wide. Castiel swallowed, gripping Sam's hand as tightly as he dared as the countdown got louder.

"I'm saying I don't want to be your _fake_ boyfriend," Castiel said, leaning closer as he raised his voice to be heard over the chanting crowd.

"Four!"

"I'm saying--"

"Three!"

"--that is, I'm asking you--"

"Two!"

"--be my real boyfriend?"

"One!"

" **HAPPY NEW YEAR!!** "

The shouting and cheering completely drowned out any sort of verbal response that might have been forthcoming. Castiel scarcely cared, however, as a strong arm came around his waist and a large and warm hand cupped his jaw before surprisingly soft lips descended to his. Reaching up to cup Sam's face as he kissed back, Castiel figured that was just as good an answer as any.

- **END** -

  



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